Black and Blue, Inside and Out
by Phoenix1998
Summary: When Merlin is kidnapped under the noses of King Arthur and the Knights they will face a long journey to rescue their silent savior. Will they survive without their silent guardian? Secrets will be revealed and old wounds reopened...
1. Taken

**A/N I know I should be updating my other story, but this just came to me... I had to get it down... :) I have a writers block for my other story Angels in Camelot, but I will update it soon. I also know this chapter is short but i want to see if there is any interest... :) please review :)**

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Merlin sat with the knights, watching as they laughed and joked. He longed to join them, to be free of his guilt and pain. But al he could think about was those that he had killed, or had died due to his decisions. How could he sit here and laugh whilst their families mourned.

Normally Merlin would use the good deeds he had done outweigh the bad, but today was different. It was 5 years today the his only love had been killed by his best, and closest, friend. He didn't blame Arthur really, he knew he should, but he couldn't bring himself to. Even after all of this time the pain still burned. It was almost reflective of the scar on his chest. But this pain had no mark. No scar to be seen. Just an indescribable burn, invisible to his fellows.

Each scar was a reminder to Merlin. A reminder of pain that was inflicted. They started small and could be mistaken as accidents of the clumsy manservant, that was displayed to all. But gradually they got larger, and wouldn't look out if place on a warrior. A large burn across his chest a reminder of how he cheated death. The sting of the serket the tore from his hip to just below his shoulder-blade, with dark tendrils spiraling across his pale back, remenants of the deadly poison.

But Freya, Merlin had no mark to bear for her. No reminders. Apart from the tiny scars he had received from Hailig. He had memorised them all. They were the little he had to show for his protection of Freya. How little it meant. He had failed. Failed her. But however much he had wanted to bring her back the cost would be a high one.

Merlin was so lost thought that he didn't notice the noises coming from in the woods. Didn't notice until the hilt of a sword was forcefully rammed into the back of his head rendering him unconscious. Before succumbing to the darkness he let a small cry. Hoping to be heard by his friends.

Friends. Those who he had guarded and protected. Losing so much for.

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Please review x:)


	2. Escape

**So here is the next chapter thank you so much for the response :) and I hope you enjoy x**

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The camp was quiet in the dark. Percival watched for signs of movement. There was no sign of Merlin, they had sent him to take care of the horses for them, but that was a little while ago. Percival assumed that Merlin was just grooming them, or trying to engage them in conversation. Merlin had a way with animals and he was the only one who could control Arthur's stubborn horse. Even Arthur struggled with him, the horse had a mind of its own and frequently wanted to go in the opposite direction to that which they were headed. But Merlin would simply dismount, from his own placid mare, and whisper in the stubborn horses ear, from then on he would go wherever they wanted. Percival believed Merlin promised him an extra carrot.

With no sign of trouble Percival began to drift into a light sleep, like the other knights. He fell into dreams of epic battles and challenging quests. His dreams also turned into those of his home, family and old life. They had passed through Ealdor on their hunt and Percival was reminded of his home. He missed the children who ran and played. Missed the friendly smiles and laughter. And most of all he missed his family. His life had been torn to shreds when Cenred's men had attacked his village. He had been a helpless child when they attacked, he and his best friend Lancelot had watched their village massacred. From that day on they had sworn to learn how to fight and defend innocents.  
Protect them is exactly what they had done. It was this goal that had changed their lives. They were now knights of Camelot. If someone had have told him that he would become a knight he would have laughed in their faces.

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Merlin woke slowly with an ache in the back of his head. _Ouch, that is going to bruise_ he thought. He tried to move his hand up to the wound but quickly found that his hands were bound tightly behind his back. He turned his head painfully to survey his surroundings. The warlock took in the sight of a fire and a small camp. But as he continued to turn his head he noticed there were more tents behind him. Just how many bandits had taken him? And then he cast his mind to Arthur, was he here? Merlin hoped not. He had been at the stream with the horses, just far enough away to appear alone. But he was alone with five horses, surely they had noticed he was not alone. Maybe they thought that he would not be missed as easily. This was the conclusion he came to as none of the knights were any where to be seen.

Merlin began to think up ways to escape, he could just cut the rope with his magic, but he didn't want to reveal that talent unless he had to. He could feel the slight pressure of the dagger he kept in his boot pressing into his ankle,but he couldn't reach it. Then Merlin remembered a trick that he and Will had practised as children. He carefully pulled himself into a crouched position and maneuvered his arms under his feet. This whole process was made harder by the fact that his feet were tied to. But he managed to, in a very undignified way, get his arms in front of him. Allowing himself a moment to rest after the strain he had just put his muscles through, Merlin retrieved the knife from his boot. With short well practised movements he cut through the ropes.

Within minutes the ropes fell away leaving his hands tingling. Then he began working on the ropes around his ankles. The knife caught the light of the fire and cast it off in all directions. This was the knife he always carried with him. In case of emergencies, it was the knife that his father had given his mother before he left. So that was Will and his father saving him tonight. Merlin forced down the pain of the guilt that flooded him for their deaths. He had to get away.

Dark thoughts crept their way into the young warlocks mind. What would the bandits do to him if he didn't escape? What would happen to him if he was to escape and be recaptured? Surely that would be worse? His mind tuned over the possibilities. He shuddered in the darkness. He was cold hungry and alone. Not the best way to happen upon a bandit camp. He watched the flames die down and felt the bonds around his ankles fall free. _Finally _he thought. His hands were numb form the cold metal of the hilt of the knife. But he was free. Slowly he straightened, the numb feeling spreading along his body, right to his toes. Silently he pushed the knife back into its sheath and put it back into his boot.

As he turned to run on stiff legs Merlin heard shuffling behind him. He turned and faced the bandit who had been on guard duty, getting ready to change shift.

Slowly he straightened, the numb feeling spreading along his body, right to his toes. Silently he pushed the knife back into its sheath and put it back into his boot.

Merlin hurried into the woods trying to evade the view of the bandit. _This particular bandit was huge_ thought Merlin. _Typical_. He snuck through the trees past the bandit. The bandit didn't notice Merlin as he crept behind him. But on approaching the camp he noticed that Merlin was missing. He saw the cut ropes and quickly awoke the others.

Merlin ran. The chase was on.

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**Please keep reviewing I love them xx Phoenix xx**


	3. Run

_**AN: **_**Ok I am now going to make Wednesday an update night for this story. I know that this has taken a long time to post and to be honest it was complete laziness. Anyway you don't want to hear my excuses, this remains un-beta'ed and I don't own Merlin. **

**Enjoy :)**

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Merlin kept running, so fast he felt like he flew. He could hear the footfalls of the bandits. He magically sharpened his senses. It was best if he could know exactly what was going on. Rounding a corner Merlin heard a bandit slip, not believing his luck Merlin took the opportunity to climb a tall oak. Scaling the tree surprisingly quickly, Merlin looked below him. From his perch in the oak Merlin could see the bandits below him.

Merlin reflected on how surprised Arthur would be to find that Merlin had the ability to climb He probably thought Merlin to clumsy and useless to be able to. But the truth was Merlin was a great climber. Having been raise by a single mother had been difficult for them. Hunith tried her best but it was hard. With two hungry mouths to feed Merlin had to make up for the lack of meat on the table. Every week Merlin would take off into the woods for a few days and come home with some meat, almost always catching something. He would have to spend a lot of time hiding in trees, when pray was close but not close enough to kill, or hiding from predators, both magical and natural. Merlin was a good hunter, contrary to Arthur's belief. Most of the time Merlin faked his clumsiness on their hunts to annoy the prince or to scare of the animals closest to them. Whenever Merlin hunted, the meat and pelt was needed, Arthur did it for fun.

Merlin was brought back to his current surroundings when the loud shouts of more bandits could be heard. The others had caught up. Surveying the scene below him Merlin paused. How long would they not notice him for? He couldn't hide forever. He could use his magic. He could create false trails, but from this distance they may not have been as accurate as possible. But as long as they led them away, and gave Merlin a little time to escape, it could work.

Merlin glanced around the clearing, there was a small trail the overgrowth to the left of the clearing. Merlin's eyes glowed gold and he turned to face the right of the clearing. He caused a small wind to rustle the leaves and he turned his eyes to the floor as they were distracted and covered his footprints. The bandits ran over to the brush, looking through the bushes.

Seizing his chance Merlin scrambled down a few branches, but he knew he was moving to slow, the bandits would realise any second. Taking a chance Merlin jumped. Even from the height that he was at. Grunting slightly at the pain of the impact he rolled. Springing to his feet Merlin pushed against the wet ground and ran.

Running as fast as he could Merlin made a break across the clearing to the trail. He fought his way through a few thistle bushes, catching his hair and skin in the progress. Small beads of blood stick to the branches as they snapped when he ran past. The tree root came out of nowhere, it snarled around his ankle and pulled him to the floor. Crying out as he fell Merlin heard his ankle crack. Then he heard shouts coming from the clearing where he had been hidden. Merlin scrambled back to his feet and began to run again, mindful of his agonising ankle.

Merlin kept running and soon he came across a stream. Positive the bandits were far behind him, and probably lost, he began to set himself up a small camp. The bandits had no real reason to be following him. He had nothing belonging to them, nor was he worth any large value. He should be safe for now.

Merlin started a small fire with his magic and hobbled over to the stream. He sat down and pulled his sock and boot off. He gently placed his swollen foot into the cool water. Wincing slightly as the current pulled on his injuries. He needed to take the swelling down and then bind his foot. Merlin looked around him, there was nothing that he could really use as a bandage. Sighing Merlin reached up and loosened the neckerchief from around his neck, he wrapped it around the ankle with practised hands, being the physicians apprentice had some advantages. Hissing at the pain Merlin pulled his trouser leg over the make-shift bandage.

Merlin watched as a few rays of watery sunshine peered over the horizon. It was morning, finally. Merlin lay down and muttered a spell, causing the surrounding leaves to cover him. It was only a temporary solution but he needed rest and it would also provide some form of camouflage as well as conserve his body heat. With a few thoughts of home running through his mind, Merlin fell asleep.

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Arthur awoke when the sun started lighting the insides of his eyelids, he sat up opening his eyes only to be assaulted by light. Blinking like a disorientated mole he rubbed his face. How long had they overslept?

"Merlin..." groaned Arthur. "why didn't you wake us you great idiot? Its hours since daybreak! Where are you?" Arthur stumbled to his feet. "Merlin!" He looked around for the sight of the gangly warlock. He sighed, _idiot _thought Arthur.

"Wassumatter?" came a sound from the ground. Gwaine rolled over. "Why you shoutin' before breakfast?" It clearly bothered Gwaine that he was having to deal with this on an empty stomach. "Where's Merlin?"

"I don't know Gwaine, that's why I'm shouting. Honestly you are worse then Merlin sometimes." Arthur turned around and rolled his eyes.

"Sorry Princess. I just wanted to know how you managed to lose Merlin before breakfast."

"Gwaine what is with you and your bloody breakfast?" said Arthur, nodding at the other knights who had been roused from their sleep by the argument, to which they joined. "Has any one seen Merlin?" The knights shook their heads. "Ok then, who was the last person to see him?"

"That would be me" said Percival, raising his hand. "I saw him when I was on watch. He went out to water the horses and then he said he would ash the dishes in that stream." Percival pointed in the direction of the stream.

Arthur sighed again and walked over to the cooking equipment.

"No all of the pots are here and clean. He must have done those first. Lets check the stream, knowing the lazy idiot he probably fell asleep with the horses." They all laughed but there was a hint of concern there. They all cared about the warlock even if they weren't the first to admit it. Well all of them never really _mentioned _it, except Gwaine, but their relationship was clear for all to see.

The knights followed the tracks left by Merlin to the stream. They found themselves in a small clearing. The horses were tied to nearby trees, close enough to the water to drink but also close enough for them to eat some of the grass away from the banks. But there was no Merlin. Where was he?

"Uh, Arthur" said Gwaine, concern evident in his voice. He bent over and lifted up a small gem. It had come from a sword hilt. An expensive one at that. And it was covered in blood. Arthur rushed over to Gwaine and pulled the gem from his hand. Turning it over in his hand the king cursed. This blood was relatively fresh. Fresh as in last night.

"Oh Merlin, where are you?" breathed Arthur. "What have you gotten yourself into this time?"

And then Arthur changed, he masked his shock and fear for his friend. He went into full blown King mode. And these people had angered him. They had taken something that he cared deeply about. Merlin.

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**So what did you think? Please leave a comment or PM me with any views that you may have or any possible prompts for the story line. I have a line planned but there is room for added ideas. **

**I will update next week :) **


	4. Just His Luck

**AN: On time :) but only just though. Well this chapter may be a little confusing, it contains details as to locations. It should make sense and it does to me but then again, I know what's happening. This chapter is a little shorter than last time, but it was 1111 words. I will try again next week to beat that length. Enjoy :) **

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"Merlin!" yelled Arthur desperately. The sun was now at its highest point in the sky and his and the other knights stomachs were protesting. They had been searching since they had woken with little success. The footprints left behind by the bandits and also Merlin, had been washed away in the small rain shower they had experienced not long ago. They had decided that the kidnappers would take Merlin through small paths away from the prying eyes of watchers. Because of this fact and the dangerous conditions of the ground, not to take the horses.

"Arthur, we should stop for a while and eat. We're no good to Merlin with no energy." Leon said cautiously to the king, ever the voice of reason. "We need to think about our plan, we can not just keep walking until we stumble upon him. Let's think where they may have taken him and for what reason."

Arthur paused for a moment. He knew Leon was right, hell when was Leon not right, they should rest. But he didn't think that he could really bring himself to eat. Ever since they had woken to find Merlin missing, Arthur had been blaming himself. If he had of been on watch he would have waited for Merlin to return. But he couldn't keep blaming himself. They would just have to find Merlin and then it would all be alright.

"Yes, Leon, you're right we should rest. But not for to long I want to be on the move again as soon as possible. Merlin needs us."

The band of knights sat in a small circle and pulled out some rations from their packs. With no horse or Merlin to carry them, they had had to carry them themselves. Settling themselves down with a few mouthfuls of bread and lots of water the knights attempted to formulate a plan.

"Ok, let's get what we know already, straight. We know that Merlin was taken by the river. There were tracks left there before it rained. They were headed East. We followed those and they stopped at that small bridge over the river. We crossed that and we are now headed west because we are following the river. There would be no point in us going any further east because the only thing that way is the lake. Got it?" The knights nodded. Arthur continued. "So lets keep heading this way and see if we can pick up any tracks that the rain missed, OK?" there was a murmur of agreement through the knights and Arthur took it as full hearted approval. Standing up Arthur stretch and began to pack his belongings up.

Not ten minutes later all of the knights had followed his lead and they were once again walking, in a straight line parallel to the river.

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Merlin woke with a start, the sun was beating down on his crude shelter. It had just passed its fullest height and was burning hot. Merlin looked down at himself. He was soaking wet. The leaves which had been covered in mud, hand been miraculously cleaned and their previous mud now caked Merlin. _Great_, he thought looking down at himself. _I missed a rain shower._ Merlin sighed and looked around him, he must have been absolutely exhausted to have slept through that. He blamed it on the probably still present drug in his system.

He knew, even in his still groggy mind that he had to get moving. He was lucky no one had discovered him yet. Merlin looked over at the sparkling river longingly. Deciding that his need for water was more overwhelming then his need for cleanliness, he drank. As he drank a hawk peered down at him from one of the branches in a small tree. It had intelligent eyes, eyes that could locate its prey from high in the sky. Merlin had no idea that it was there until it shuffled its wings and flew off. He could have sworn he saw a leather band around its ankle*. Arthur sometimes used bids for hunting, their senses where more honed then most other animals, such as dogs. Arthur used to say to Merlin that if he were able to capture a merlin, that he would train it to hunt with him. It could replace a useless Merlin, with a hunter.

Snapping out of his little day dream, Merlin knew once again that he must find his way back. Arthur needed his protection. Gods knew that he could get himself into enough trouble. Smiling at the thought Merlin tried to recall the way that he had gotten here. Even though he had been unconscious for the most of it, Merlin could remember the sounds of a river and the sand crunched under the feet of the bandits as they dragged his over the bridge. To get back he needed to cross a bridge. Which is exactly what he did when he found one not far from his "camp".

Merlin also thought that the bandits would attempt to drag him away form the knights camp, for their own safety, that would mean that they had dragged him east. With this knowledge in mind he began to head west, back to the knights camp.

Merlin walked for what felt like, and probably was, hours. He kept heading west and wondered just how far the bandits had taken him. Thoughts of the knights filled his head, laughing at him for getting lost. The banter they shared always made him laugh and the witty insults kept his brain as fit as the servant work kept his body. It also strengthened their bond. Like him and Arthur he wasn't just a servant he was a friend, an equal.

That was the elation he was feeling as he saw the lights up ahead. He could hear joking and laughter as he neared it. Wait, laughter. Merlin had been missing for a day and they were laughing? Sure, Merlin could understand if not all of the knights were looking for him. Some had to stay at camp. But he never thought that they could laugh like that with him missing.

Merlin quickened the pace that he was walking at and soon reached the outskirts of the camp. The camp wasn't theirs Merlin realised with a jolt. He had just walked up to a, possibly hostile, camp. Did he learn nothing from quests with Arthur? Turning on his heal, Merlin began to move away. But as he did he heard the swish of an arrow. The last thing he thought after a bolt of pain shot through his shoulder was, _At least they weren't laughing without me. _

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**And there you go 23:55 …. done. Phew. **

***Birds of prey were often used to hunt in medieval times but i'm not sure about Arthurian times :) **

**Please let me know what you think :) **

**THANK YOU ALL FOR THE REVIEWS LAST WEEK :D **


	5. Loyalty

**AN: I know that this is late but I decided that I would stay up to write out my German assessment rather than this, and I have had not had any time since then. Also this is beta'd by my lovely best friend vixxster2942 and not really inspired by anything. Please tell me what you think about it and any of your own thoughts as to a story line (if you want to add to it ;) )**

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Merlin fell to his knees.

The pain in his shoulder was spreading along with his blood. His blue shirt had been soaked through and was turning a dark crimson colour. Merlin gripped the bolt tight in his hand and pulled. It came loose from his shoulder with a sickening noise.

Leon had always preferred to use the crossbow to a normal bow. Because of this Merlin had made it his mission to find out about the crossbow, in case he ever came up against one or Leon missed.

He noted, though how accurate his brain was he wasn't sure, that the strength at which it had hit him meant that it was at the upper end of its range. The shooter must be more that 390 yards away. The arrow was of a finer make than most bandits could make or steal. With these facts Merlin could tell he was dealing with either rogue soldiers or soldiers that were sent to Camelot. They also told him that he needed to run. So he did. He clutched at his shoulder and ran. The blood poured from the wound as he threw the bolt down behind him. Merlin began to feel light headed from the blood loss and the lack of food that he had eaten the last day and a half.

"_Hæle__**" **_he whispered. He felt his eyes glow gold and the pain receded a little. The wound had not healed completely but it was closed enough to not kill him from bleeding out. He cursed himself for focusing so long on cleaning spells and not looking into healing magic. That could have been useful. At least he had something to do when he got back to Camelot.

The footfalls behind him sped up.These must be foot soldiers. They were gaining on him quicker and quicker. Merlin stumbled and fell on his already injured ankle. He felt his legs give way beneath him.

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"Regroup!" came Arthur's voice through the trees. The knights had split up to look for the missing manservant. It had taken them hours to get this far with their thorough combing of the thick woodland. The knights had finished their meal and drawn up a map. It showed where they had last seen Merlin and where he could have possibly been headed.

They had followed the river and found no sign of Merlin. The knights had had to bring up the fact that if Merlin had indeed been captured where would they take him. The river would be the ideal path to follow. They could make stops all along the river to camp and had a constant water and food supply. The river also led to two lakes. One further north and the other was north east of the castle.

The prints that they had found at the riverside had been headed east. Then they had crossed the river. From there, there were two paths they could have taken north or west, as it was unlikely they would travel to the lake to the east. It was too close to the mountains and a village was very near. The knights had gone west, so as to follow the river. There had been no real sign for hours so the only choice they had now was to head north to join the other river. So that was what they did.

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The next thing Merlin knew there was a man looming over him. He was grinning like the cat that got the cream. His grey eyes were flicking over Merlin's face. He knew this man. He had visited Camelot on business of a foreign king's court. He had looked very shifty to Merlin, who was always on the lookout for infiltrating sorcerers and threats to the kingdom. Merlin knew that he was the cities first line of defence. Even if it was unknown to the king.

The knight looked into Merlin's eyes long and hard. His teeth had bits of rotting food in them. His gums were pale and his teeth yellow and rotting. His breath smelt of putrid meat and the small beard that was growing on his chin had clumps of food in as well. The beard didn't cover his whole chin though. It was absent in the place where a long, pale scar ran down his cheek. The feathery texture of his beard made it look like a half plucked bird. He had a large bulbous nose that was read and his neck was sweating. The gleam could also be seen on his forehead. This man was in charge. He was not one of those chasing Merlin and catching him up. He had run in after.

Merlin's head snapped back as the sweaty knight slapped him hard across the face. The sting left Merlin spluttering for a moment.

"The King's manservant! I'm sure that my liege can make good of that. I'm sure that she will get some information out of you. I know that you will probably have some questions as well, boy." he imitated the voice of small girl. _"Who is your liege? What do you want? I'm just a servant. What are you going to do to me? Don't hurt me!" _he stuck his bottom lip out. "I can tell you that you will be introduced to my liege very shortly. She will be _most _pleased to see you. Meet you. Get to know your darkest fears." His voice was croaky and sounded hoarse like he only used it in emergencies, or to yell constantly, either would do it. As he spoke bits of saliva flew from his mouth, flecking Merlin's face.

The knight turned around and began to walk away. Merlin muttered darkly.

"Good luck with getting into my head, I'm sure she had no trouble getting into your thick skull. Or maybe she just tried to find any thought worth listening to" The knight tensed. He swung around.

"What did you say to me boy! Did you insult my liege?!"

Merlin winced as the meaty fist came into contact with his face again. He felt the warm blood trickle down his. Why did he have to comment?

"I should cut out your tongue. I would if it wasn't needed to tell my mistress the secret of the kingdom. I'm sure that she wouldn't mind if you were... a little roughed up. She would not have to spend so long tendering you up then. She can get straight to the juicy bits. And when I say juicy I mean, the part when she rumbles around in your brain." he stuck his bottom lip out again. "To see your little thoughts" Merlin began to pull away as the beefy knight wondered slowly over to where another knight held Merlin with his arms pinned behind his back.

"Did you hear him boys? He insulted our mistress. The one who SAVED us. How can we let this pass?"

The knights around him clearly agreed with him they gathered around him. Slowly one advanced.

"Wait..." said the first Knight, Merlin silently named him Bill, Bill the Boss. _Great, I'm naming my captors. "_He needs to be in a good enough shape for our ladies fun. And her guest."

The knights nodded clearly this guest was important to these men. For them to reign in their apparent anger.

Merlin looked down. His eyes glanced around the leaf strewn ground. He then cast a well-practised spell to numb his body. It was one of the first ones that he had learned to perform in Ealdor. It saved him from the pain that the beatings he had been given by the boys. His eyes flashed gold as Merlin blinked, hiding his eyes from view. He sighed and resigned himself to fate.

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**Done now I will write some of Insight :)**


	6. Lost

**Ok here you guys. I have been very busy of late, writing my German exams and preparing for a controlled assessment in English. But hey I said I'd update on a Wednesday and I haven't so there is no excuse. My teacher used to tell me off for missing deadlines... Anyway here it is. Thanks for reviews for the last chapter your views are appreciated :) Beta'd by Vixxster2942**

Merlin opened his eyes and squinted at the advancing knights. They were grinning; clearly they were unused to their captives with standing this long. But Merlin knew he would not last much longer the numbing spell wore off and he would succumb to the pain. Many of the men's fists were bloody and Merlin bore the marks of their targets.

The rouges pulled him forward to a barrel. Merlin caught sight of his reflection in the water. He had bruises blooming all over his face but they were mostly concealed by the blood that was slowly leaking from wounds just below his eye. The man who had hit him, if you could call him a man; more like a bear than human, had been wearing a ring. A large expensive ring. The cut was still bleeding despite being about half an hour old. It was very deep and would most probably scar. Merlin didn't have time to think about that as his head was plunged below the icy water. He struggled as the water hit his injuries. The spell had worn off. Merlin tried to scream, he tried to fight but the men held his hair tight. Just as his vision began to blur and thoughts of his Freya floated into his mind, they yanked his head up. Laughter filled his ears. Not happy laughter or joy. No this was laughter of mad men. Men who took pleasure in hurting another.

Merlin gasped for air and, despite the shock of the cold water that had him trembling all over, the water had removed some of the blood. The cut on his cheek also felt numbed and he felt re-energised. But his temporary relief was taken from him as his, now clear, vision was blocked by a massive man. He knelt down before Merlin's trembling form. He looked into his eyes and Merlin looked into his. They were like pits. Black pits filled with rage and also... was that an ounce of fear?

"You should respect our liege, she is a saviour and you... you are nothing to her. You are lucky that she didn't want her plaything dead. Or you would be. Do you understand me boy?!" Merlin made no movement. "I said DO YOU UNDERSTAND ME!" He pulled Merlin to the fire where he pulled out a burning stick. If there was one thing Merlin feared it was the fire. It was an unpredictable force and it was changing. Not to mention the constant threat of a burning pyre. The black souled knight brought the stick to Merlin's face and held it before his eye. Silence rung through the clearing, Merlin made to nod but the man was quicker. He pressed the burning stick into the manservant's face.

The smell of burning flesh polluted the air. The silence was shattered as Merlin screamed; a scream that was full of a pain that said he had had enough. Although the burn itself was very small the evil man had pushed it into the damaged flesh on the warlocks face. He had also made sure that the end of the burn touched the cut. That was the main source of the pain.

The knight lifted the stick and prodded the fire with it, as if nothing has happened. The sparks flew from the fire, scattering out across the dried leaves. They singed and coiled in on themselves, much like Merlin felt like doing. They let off dark smoke but then died out. Pulling the stick from the fire again he brought it once again before Merlin's face. He leant down again level to the warlock. He breathed onto the stick, feeding the dying spark with oxygen, small sparks jumped at Merlin's face and sunk into his skin. He flinched and whimpered.

"Good" The knight turned away from Merlin. He relaxed slightly in the grip of the guards. And then the Black Knight swung his whole body around to Merlin. His fist curled and a few milliseconds behind him. The large meaty fist landed on Merlin's face, directly under his eye. Merlin's head lolled and he sunk into unconsciousness.

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The knights had been walking for hours again. This time though they knew they were getting close. They knew this, but they were unsure why. A strange feeling that they all had. Merlin had come this way; it was as though he had left a part of himself here. It was like he had imprinted himself all around them. Or they could just be desperate. That was more likely. Desperate to hide their guilt, or at least ease it.

They had been following the parallel river for a long time and they had drawn to a stop when Percival noticed something. A scuff mark in the wet mud. It was like someone had fallen. Or tripped. Merlin! There was also dried blood on the leaves and branches were broken and falling off of their trees. Only a runner could make those. So Merlin had been fleeing.

Percival looked back at the small trail behind them. It would have gone unnoticed if they had not been looking specifically for it; it would have produced a perfect escape route for Merlin if he had indeed been captured. They should follow the trail to the source, then maybe they could find his captors. But they should also follow the path ahead. Continue the search.

"Sire," Percival said, "The trail leads back through there. If we were quick we could catch up with Merlin's captors. Maybe they re-captured him. Of course only if these tracks are his." No one had really thought of this possibility. They needed to find Merlin. They wiped any doubt that they were not Merlin's tracks from their minds.

"We should carry on Percival," said Leon, "We have to try and catch up with Merlin." He led them to the scuff marks. "This fall would have injured him severely enough to slow him down. He is in further danger the longer he is out here alone. Maybe we should leave the captors alone for now. If it rains again we could lose Merlin's tracks." Percival nodded. But the King looked strained. He clearly wanted to go back to get the people who had hurt his friend but his friend was more important at the moment.

"Leon is right, Percival, we should follow Merlin. Gods only know where he is and how much trouble the idiot has gotten himself into. We should also hurry. The sky is clouding and we could lose his trail." Percival nodded.

The Knight's began searching the surrounding bushes and areas for prints and found a single set crossing the river. The knights followed them, like a ghost of Merlin. Following his movements. Walking alongside the footprints left by the gangly warlock and friend.

* * *

**Well there it was :) my last post as a 14 year old as it is my birthday tomorrow :) please tell me what you think and how I can improve :) Thanks! **

**Phoenix **

**x**


	7. Bandits

**Hey, I'm really sorry for not telling you that I would be in Italy on a geography field-trip for the past 12 days... So I'm so sorry its late. If there is a good response though I can see if I can get another chapter tonight and also give you a Wednesday update as well :) Enjoy x**

* * *

The prints that they were following became clearer as they walked away from the river. They were walking north again but the ground was still retaining the imprint of Merlin's tracks. Where the earth was becoming drier, like sand, the prints were more distinguishable from animal tracks.

All of the knights were beginning to feel the strain in their necks as they were looking down constantly, eyes scanning the ground. A slight scuffle in the tracks were showing to the knights that their missing servant was limping, or at least dragging his leg behind him, in some places there was indication of a stick being used as support. All along the trail spots of blood clung like little globes to the branches, shining in the dwindling light like rubies.

Arthur was drowning in his guilt. The knights were also still feeling the guilt but theirs was considerably less than the kings. He could never forgive himself if the young man died. He had dragged him to the hunt, despite his protests. He had forced him to feed the horses, to stay out late. He fell asleep before guaranteeing the manservant was back.

They were moving fast but a silence weighed down on them, like a ton of bricks. No one wanted to talk. What would they say? How could anyone think of anything but Merlin, but they couldn't bring it up in a conversation. It would increase their guilt by tenfold.

So they walked.

Just kept going. Eyes down. Focused.

They would find him. No matter what. They had to.

* * *

Merlin woke up from his pained daze. Hands tied, wrists bruised. The sting on his cheek burned still. Apparently, as he found no further injury to his person, as soon as he had fallen unconscious the knights had left him. His hands had been re-tied and were now feeling bruised. They were tingling painfully indicating they had been tied for some time. Not long enough to show absolute blood loss though he must have been showing signs of waking earlier for them to have been tied so tightly. Well he was awake now, he should probably try to get out of this mess. And quickly, while the only sign of a guard was a sleeping silhouette outlined by the firelight.

It was still dark, that either meant that it was the same night or he had remained unconscious until the next morning. He hoped it was the former. It would mean he had been held for less time. Less time for them to torture him. That was what it was, torture. He had no information that they wanted, it was entirely for their pleasure.

He was also incredibly keen to know who their liege was. Knowing his luck it would be someone nasty. Oh Gods. What if it was Morgana? He was positive that he could not withstand her torture. And methods of _persuasion._ She wouldn't be able to contain herself, not even for Merlin, her once friend. The thought of their friendship made Merlin shiver. How could the wonderful kind-hearted woman he had known grow into this. Monster. He missed Morgana, the old Morgana. She was another of Merlin's failures that had caused pain and havoc. What is he hadn't of turned his back? Had she meant that little to him?

In his contemplation he missed the movement behind him, in the corner of his eye. He heard it though, and barely had time to attempt to turn before the hand pulled him up. The chances of escape had been snatched from him by his own self-loathing. It was Bill who had him by the scruff of his neck. Bloody neckerchief. The putrid smell of his breath was hot in Merlin's ear. And his face was uncomfortably close. There was an elbow in his ribs, digging in, but not in a way that completely caused him to lose his breath.

"Awake then." It was not a question but a statement. He had something planned, he had that tone. The confident assured tone of a leader. However along with the calm voice there was a taint of... fear. A power above him was pulling the strings. It was fear that drove him. And it was one of the things that scared him.

Merlin knew that they had something new for him. Pain most probably. Or maybe just a little chat. No it would be the former, definitely.

"We have a surprise for you, servant." Merlin winced. Brilliant. "Someone for you to meet, and even better she has a friend with her." How could this get worse? "And there is no one here to help you with the introductions. You're on your own so make a good impression."

He dragged Merlin to his feet and pushed him forward. His laced boot caught on a loose rock that lay on the ground. Merlin felt his body lunge but he was supported by the meaty hand of the leader. An unwanted support. The hand guided him through the trees, Merlin was cautious of the roots sticking out of the ground. The light began to fade as they walked away from the main fire and Merlin was lead into a side camp, adjacent to the other. The tents were standing proudly in the moonlight, many with towering flags fluttering in the wind. There were guards standing outside of one of the tents. Someone of great importance to these men must be inside.

Merlin's curiosity would soon be sated as the tent flap flew open

* * *

Darkness pressed down on the knights with an uncertainness that was silently killing them. They knew now that they were on the right track as through the day they had been following a set of soft boot treads. But the knights knew, also that if their wayward friend had indeed gone straight this way then they were at least a day behind. The only way that they could close the gap and hopefully preserve the prints would be to speed their pace up. They could not do this however, if they did their overall speed would decrease, they would lose sleep. Their energy would dwindle and all rescue attempts would be futile.

So once again they began to set up the camp. It was becoming a horrid regularity. The silent hole left by Merlin was not possible to fill with any form of conversation. It was as if they had already lost him. There was always one pillar of hope though. Throughout their entire search and rescue mission, Gwaine had been there. Not his usual happy self but he was the least sombre. The one who kept them alive. He had somehow managed to pull the mood up from around their boots and tweaked a small smile out of the king himself.

The fire cast out light in all directions and it lit up the crannies of the camp. Illuminating the horses and casting shadows at all angles from small objects. The knights kept their heads down as Percival walked over to stoke the fire. They raised their heads slightly as he began gathering pots. Percival, as it turned out, was the best cook out of all of the knights. He made a wicked broth and it went well with anything that they managed to scavenge or hunt on their long walk. They watched as he slowly took out his hidden knife and began gutting a rabbit. Then he poured some of the water from their skeins into the pot. After cutting up the now clean rabbit carcass, he placed the pieces in a second dry pot and listened to the sizzle of the cooking meat. When it began to turn grey he placed it in the water pot and added some herbs. Then he added the fats from the cooking meat and placed a lid on the pot. The knights watched his every move tentatively.*

The silence in the clearing was punctuated every now and then by the boiling of the watery stew. Or the occasional pop of a log on the fire. It was as though the usual flow of conversation, jokes and laughter had been stemmed, like a dam cutting off their happiness. It was because of this silence and the unnatural stillness, however, that they heard it. The sound of steel being drawn from its scabbard. Metal on leather.

The battle instincts of the warrior kicked in almost instantly. They swung around, each grappling for their own swords. The light reflected menacingly across the camp as the blades caught the gaze of the fire.

Arthur lunged first, straight at the man who had drawn his sword behind them. It was then that the group noticed the presence of several other men in their clearing. All of them swords raised. The silence was cut, quite literally as the blades met. Battle-hardened warrior on rough bandit. There was no need for introductions, their clothes spoke enough of their belittled status. They were worn and sported many cut and holes, they hung loosely of their frames, much like those of a scarecrow. And their faces were unkempt. But their weapons. They were fit for knights. In fact they were most probably those of knights.

The attack on the camp of the knights of Camelot might have been unexpected but there was no denying the bandits stood no chance. Arthur's blade was not the only one coated in crimson. The knights had utterly squashed the resistance of the bandits. And the few that remained fit enough to stood soon took to their heel in flight. Elyan kept one pinned under his blade and called the king over to him. He could decide what to do with him. Arthur walked calmly over to the bandit and crouched next to him, bringing his own face on a level with his.

"Kill me then you coward!" he spat in the kings face, alighting outrage in the knights. However they were calmed with a gesture from their king.

"No, I want to know something first."

"Then you shant'ever know"

"Fine then, Elyan." Arthur gestured to the knight who quickly pulled the bandit to his feet, backing him up against a tree. The sword tip was pushed against the dent in the bandits throat.

"Have you seen a servant, tall, gangly and unhealthy looking?" the bandit smirked slightly. But it came out as more of a grimace. Arthur dug the tip of his sword deeper, drawing blood. He whimpered.

"Y-yes and 'e'll be dead by now. We had 'im. Lovely guest, until 'e ran for it. We followed 'im... well for a while. We lost 'im after a while longer. Took some sor' of path towards the river. That one back there," he nodded, as much as he could with his restricted head, in the direction of the river. "then we really did loose 'im. We 'eard the disturbance of you lot earlier and thogh' it were 'im. Then we saw your fire. You gonna le' me go now?" he raised an eyebrow questioningly. Arthur considered for a moment and then nodded to Elyan. Withdrawing the sword from his throat Arthur watched as Elyan let the bandit go. Then something hit Arthur. Hard.

He ran up to the bandit and tackled him to the floor.

"What did you mean he's probably dead now. What did you filthy pigs do to him?"

"Oh don't you just want to know." He teased. Arthur rolled off of the bandit but kept one leg on him, effectively pinning him. Before Arthur could continue his interrogation the bandit reached into his sleeve, pulling out a vile of a green looking potion. He swallowed it in one before the king could move a muscle to stop him. The knights watched as the man's eyes faded and he died.

* * *

* really really bad way of cooking, don't try this at home guys you may kill someone, if the meat is grey then throw it out... rant over i couldn't think as to what he could cook... :)

**Well what do you think? I hope you all had a good Easter and thank you for all the birthday wishes... again sorry about the wait.**

**Bye for now**

**Phoenix x**


	8. Liege

**Here you go folkes, early and late I suppose... I was a little disappointed with the response last weak but thanks to those who did drop a review :) Enjoy **

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The tent flap fluttered as though in a breeze. A shadow flickered behind the canvas of the wall, even the silhouette seemed to flicker in itself as though in was cast by a guttering candle. A pale hand snaked through the gap and grasped at the ruby fabric. The ghostly fingers spiderlike in their curl. Subtle changes in the guard, would have been a clue to the presence of another even if the eyes of the entire camp was not on the tent. It had captured their attention. The tension was subtle, but there, in everybody.

The flap was tugged open and a small foot stepped out. Small was the word. There was no other way to describe it. All was gradually made clearer when the body followed. It was a child. And yet the way she held herself and the respect that was almost visible in the air, surrounded her. Grown men seemed to shiver in her presence, crumple around her.

Merlin could feel the evil radiating from her. It should not have that effect, a child should be joyful, pure and free. None of these could be felt near the Child. Bound without chains she walked rigidly, her actions were not hers. Following the command not of her heart but the voices. Or so Merlin believed until her icy eyes swung around, fixing him in an inescapable beam. They had depth beyond their time, Darkness dwelling in their pools. A power lurked in her, waiting to be unleashed upon an unsuspecting soul.

Merlin couldn't move, he couldn't breath. He was completely frozen. Her advantage obvious. The little girl walked slowly towards him. Every step bring the cold feeling closer to him. The temperature seemed to drop. Their breaths steamed in the air. It had not been warm, but now it was freezing.

The footfalls could be heard hollowly through the ground. Before he knew it the girl was upon him, her hand outstretched.

The snowy fingers laced themselves around Merlin's high cheekbones. Pressing down on his blistering skin, providing slight relief for him, but it was short lived as she began to dig her finger in. Deeper and deeper like an icicle, until it drew a droplet of crimson blood. The blood ran down her finger and began to pool in the web like skin between her fingers. Gently she lowered her hand and poked out a delicate tongue, it glanced over the blood, taking it in. Then she looked up into Merlin's eyes. And he watched in horror as her eyes turned a fiery red.

The scream that was torn from Merlin rang on for several seconds. The moment the blood had reached its way into the Child's mouth, Merlin had begun to feel the stab in his mind. A probe of ice. He hastily threw a shield around his mind unaware that the assault would continue. The pits of hell shone through the eyes of an eight year old girl. The smile that graced her lips was akin to that of a demon. Another attack on his mind was launched, this time with the force of a battering ram. The hasty defences collapsed like parchment under the wind. And her presence flooded into his mind, like boiling wax.

* * *

Arthur's mind was reeling. What had they done to him. How could anyone be heartless enough to not only kidnap but torture an unarmed _servant_? What could he offer? How would they get it? No he had to stop this again. No amount of guilt could save Merlin. If anything the seed of guilt could grow in them all turning them against themselves.

Arthur could be sure that nobody slept that night. How could they? The body of the bandit lay a few meters away. No one could even think about burying the body of a man who could have been responsible for tormenting Merlin. It repulsed them. Then he thought of where Merlin had gone from the dreadful camp, why didn't he come home?

He tossed over again, now resting on his side, glancing towards the path were they were following the prints on. They would find him.

That was the collective thought of the drowsy knights. They would find him.

Hopefully they would be in time.

* * *

Another scream bubbled through his pale lips. The mind probe assaulting him again. This time- through the pain and the concentration of trying, miserably, to rebuild the shield- images burst through. Memories. In short flashes Merlin was blasted with senses.

_He could smell the grass as he ran with Will. Heat their laughter. Running from the clouds._

Blistering jolts were sent through him. Blinding pain.

_The wind blew through their hair, pulling slightly. A raindrop fell._

A tear hit Merlin's nose, warm, but easily mistaken for the icy raindrop.

_It splattered on his eye, collecting in his eyelashes. "You _crying_ Merlin?". Will. Laughing._

The pain seared on.

_An arrow whizzed past Merlin's eyes. Catching Will in the back. Blood mixed with the rain. It cascaded._

"NO! It never happened like that!" Merlin screamed. The smell of searing flesh was nearly apparent. The Child grinned.

_Years had passed Merlin was now a young man. The witch pulled out her dagger and threw it at the table. throwing it at Arthur's heart. Merlin in mid run, slowed time saving him._

The Child frowned and Merlin re-watched the memory. Her eyes flickered in realization. She knew. She was watching. It began to dawn on Merlin that the blood, the fake memory...it was her. She was...getting to know him. Again Merlin tried to rebuild a defence. He had to defend his memories.

He needn't have bothered though. Within moments of her realisation the girl had removed any contact with Merlin. She had struck gold, to mine it effectively she had to plan. Had to exploit all of him. And she had a, soon to come, visitor. The fun would be doubled when shared. And then for the first time she spoke. Her voice clear and innocent.

"Drug him. He is of magic, and restrain him properly. I do not want to have to round him up again. Anyone who I believe to have failed in any aspect concerning... him will be punished as I see fit. Understood?" The entire camp nodded as one, like they were under a spell.

With a flap of her dress the small girl walked, a lot less rigidly than before, back to the tent. Before she could enter, Merlin whispered,

"Who are you?"

"I am Ceara." she replied, unwavering. Before re-entering the tent.

* * *

_Ceara __—__ (KEE-ahr-ah) from Old Irish name Cera, meaning may be "bright red". Cera was the name of a wife of Nemed, of legendary early invaders of Ireland.___

**Can we see if there is a better response today please :) anyway I can improve would be great to hear and anything else. Sorry it was a mainly Merlin chapter but I think i'm a bit OOC with the knights so :/ **

**I love you all :)**


	9. Revelations

**Hey guys, I'm back again. :) this chapter will hopefully reveal some things about ****Ceara... which get a bit complicated and a horrible bit at the end.**

**This is an edit for earlier, sorry to those who have read it and it has the warning there now...**

* * *

Arthur lifted his head from his hands. The slight stubble on his chin scraped over the soft skin in the palms of his hands. It caught the light and glowed golden in the morning light. The dew in the trees glinted in the suns glare, light poured through their leaves, tinted green. It was easy to forget the horrors that his best friend may be suffering, how he may be in a ditch somewhere, discarded when his captors found out about his lack of usefulness. Little did Arthur know that he was useful, not just for his friendship with the King.

The knights were beginning to lose hope. It had been days since they had seen their friend. They had no further leads as to where he was, save from the fading trial left by his captors. They could be following the wrong trail, or the lowlifes that had taken Merlin had killed him and moved on. The tracks could be from the captors after dumping Merlin. Anything could have happened.

It struck the knights that despite the lack of sleep they had been having, or rather not having, they were still at least a day behind Merlin. They had to ride slowly to keep to the trail, eyes always down. Arthur blamed himself for the days or mores gap, the lag that they had should not have been possible. He should have looked out for his defenceless friend.

The camp was broken by the knights not long after they had woken. As usual, in silence. The knights had hardly spoken to each other, apart from to tell the others about the trail. Much of the journeys between camps had been strained. Gwaine had lost his joyful spark and Percival had lost some of his mischievous nature. The tension occasionally melted as they forgot what had happened for a moment. Once Arthur had woken from a fitful sleep and called out for Merlin. Everyone had turned and looked for the banter, the friendship. The mood plummeted from there.

The trail was fading ever quicker and Arthur was losing hope in their tracking skills. Merlin would definitely be in need of their help, because when was Merlin not? The time in the camp seemed strange. It was passing to quickly but also not quick enough. The daylight hours they could be looking for Merlin in, were gone as fast as a fluttering pixie. And yet the hours at night when all they could do was rest, the time slid by, barely fast enough to beat a snail.

Arthur felt as though a chasm had been opened up within him. His very soul ached for the other half of itself. Its brother was not with him, they were separated. The tug that was in his gut telling him about Merlin was getting weaker. It was always there, a link to him. It often became pained when Merlin was in trouble or about to be. There was a time before Merlin came that Arthur felt incomplete and unfinished. The arrogance and temper that he was renowned for was lie a fire without water to keep it in check. In fact Merlin was always the calm one, always the one with cool, clear reason on his side. Whenever the fire within Arthur threatened to hurt anyone it was calmed by the ocean in Merlin. His rock.

* * *

Merlin bit down on his tongue as the child's mind left his. The pain was phenomenal, his mind was fogged though. She had clearly followed through on the promise of a magic subduing drug. He had never heard of anyone who could alter memories like that. Let alone a child. How was this young girl so twisted that she could do that? Why was she doing it? For Merlin had met her eyes for a brief second and in that moment he saw the pleasure and wonder. She was enjoying toying with him.

The guards were nowhere in sight and he was no longer outside. The decorations of the room he was in were minimal, the only sign of habitation were scratches down the walls. The ceiling dripped slowly with water and it dripped into a small puddle by the door. The wood his prison was made of smelt rotten and musty. Yet they were sturdy, as prove by Merlin's strong kick to the he wooden wall. It was a caravan. The sort that travellers or slave captors used. The magic that he always felt in his body, the same magic that send the life force through his blood and caused his skin to tingle, was just out of his reach. The flow was... interrupted before it could reach his mind. The gap it created was gaping. It was a massive hole inside of his very soul. His one force tying him to the earth was currently severed. He could feel his strength waning.

* * *

Ceara sat at the elm table that had been placed inside of her war tent. She called it that, not because she used it at war but because this is where she met the warlords with whom she wished to make acquaintance with, or where she plotted to bring them down.

The young child had been brought up with an old witch on the outskirts of Cenred's kingdom, just within Camelot's borders. For her entire life her adoptive grandmother had been shunned, persecuted and pursued through many towns and cities on her travels. It was not the witchcraft that turned her bitter but the reaction that people had to it. They treated her with the monstrosities resevered for the criminals of the world. Punished by citizens for the wrong doing of others. That was before the Purge. After and during the Purge it had been almost impossible to hide and remain alive. The vendetta towards any with the gift was strengthened tenfold. The grief for their Queen drove them forward in their hate. It was never a rare sight to see a sorcerer atop the pyre or the smell of burning flesh as you entered a town.

That was not the only thing that weighed upon the guardians shoulders. It had been her fault the Purge started. Well in a way it had been her fault, but she was still blamed for it and she blamed herself. The downfall of magic was at the consequence of a friendly gesture.

She had once been a lady in waiting in the royal household, under the reign of Uther. The woman had been of a respectable age, around forty. She was nearing sixty when she took in Ceara, or nearer to that then fifty. She was old enough to be viewed as a respectable person, not quite and elder but she had a wise head on her shoulders. She was not just any maid though she was a maid to the Queen herself. Had been since her youth, in the early days when the Queen had been Lady Ygraine de Bois she was her personal maid and friend. The relationship between them was secret, as it was an unknown concept to have a friend in a lower class to she. It had been her who had introduced her to Nimueh.

On that fateful day it was unknown to her that she would have anything to do with the death of her friend. In the time that Ygraine knew Nimueh, there was a bond formed between them. The friendship between the witch and Queen-to-be flourished and was open to the world. Maybe that was why Ceara's grandmother had felt left out, alone in the dark.

Many years later her grandmother married into a higher class family. She had found love in a close friend of the Pendragons. He was her knight in shining armour, they soon shared in the joys of a child together. But not long after the child's first week in the world she was contacted by a high priestess, and was forced to give her child over to the witches. She had been chosen, the magic ran through her veins.

Finally when she built up the courage to introduce Ygraine and her husband, she met Uther. For Ygraine it hadn't been love at first sight, in fact they started off as friends, and then became lovers. It only took a few months of courting for Uther to realise that Ygraine was the one before he proposed. He was the young King of Camelot, and she was his pillar of strength.

In their time together the lady in waiting tended the Queen in most ways, each of them shared stories of their knights and they grew closer again. Nimueh was included as well but the visiting sorceress visited Camelot very little.

In the time she had with the Queen she had changed her view on the King. He was no longer the unreachable imposing figure he always had been, he was now... desirable to her. So one day when her husband was away fighting on the account of Uther, she was surprised to see the King at her door. It was previously unknown to her that Ygraine had also spoken to Uther about _her. _In the cold night of that winter they found the love they had been missing for a while. It was something new. The affair lasted a few months and the maid fell pregnant.

When the Queen, who was growing older, finally realised her inability to have children, it was her ever faithful lady in waiting who suggested they contact Nimueh. Nimueh arrived promptly and asked permission to perform the spell that would enable Ygraine to conceive. The permission was granted and the pregnancy went smoothly. The pregnancy was coinciding with the kings other child. Each supported the other throughout and Ceara's guardian had her second child a few months before Ygraine.

That was when it all happened. The Queen was ripped from them by the misjudged actions of Nimueh. That was when the Purge started. The magic that bubbled within her was at risk of being discovered. To protect her young daughter she had to leave her with her step-father. That was when the Lady Vivienne ran from Camelot, from her love Gorlois and her daughter Morgana.

And nearly sixteen years later she found a babe in the woods, left for her magic. Her little Ceara.

Ceara had been told stories of Morgana, Morgause and Gorlois. The events of the Purge was forced into the stories as well, and her young mind developed a dislike of the throne of Camelot and its associates. It had caused hurt to her grandmother who had taken her in from the cold. Raised her like the children she had lost, and loved her like her own.

All beliefs that she had formed against the Pendragons and Camelot were strengthened when one day. The day that the knights came.

Ceara had been playing in the flowers in the fields near their cottage, on a spring day. The first thing she heard were the beats of horses hooves. They pounded the ground and make it shake. Cracks spread from the dried land. These knights were not like the ones in her grandmother's stories. These knights had cruel grimaces on their faces, they were out for the blood of a sorcerer.

The little girl ran through the tall grass back past the winding stream that marked the boarder-line and dashed to the little stone cottage. As she reached it she could see she was too late. The house was in flames. She could hear screams from inside and she watched as the knights entered and roughly pulled her grandmother out. She was kicked to the floor and each knight took his turn in beating her. The screams were deafening, but not loud enough to cover the crunch of boots against bone. Not loud enough to mask the cracks as they broke

Ceara stood and watched, unable to move as she watched her grandmother in pain, writhing. For a moment she fell still and Ceara thought it was over. Silently she sobbed, trying to keep herself from running into the fray. But then the figure on the floor moved. Four knights walked to the witch and pulled her up. They walked her to the fence that surrounded the cottage and pulled up a wooden stake. Then they carried it to the door in the burning house. With a force Ceara had never seen before they pushed it into the ground. It drove in and stuck it fast. They hurried out before they were burnt.

With a burn in their eyes that should never be in any humans eye, crackled on. The shined armour glinted in the firelight as they dragged her grandmother to the post, withdrawing some rope and tying her to the stake. The old woman fought as well as she could in her bloody state, but the struggles ceased in a few minutes. Whether she stopped from exhaustion or the she accepted defeat Ceara never knew, but the next thing she heard were the screams.

Blood-curdling screams that ripped her throat and shredded the listeners ears. The fire ate ate her skin melting it and causing hissing sounds through the pain filled screams. The knights of Camelot watched on and she could have sworn that she heard chants of _"burn witch burn_". A few spat at her walked away.

That was the day Lady Vivianne burned, and Ceara le Fay had her heart sealed against Camelot.

* * *

**I knew you guys wanted to know about Ceara so there you go. Did I go too far? **

**That horrible plot twist was so random it shocked me and it just came to me, so I am sorry. All information in there is from the Merlin wikia. Sorry for the lack of Merlin in this one but there has been a lot of WHUMP in the past chapters for him, which will continue :)... is it wrong to smile at that? … :/ **

**Reviews are welcome and thank you to all who have reviewed in the past and are still reading and those who have favourited / followed :I**


	10. Nightmare

**Hi another chapter, because the last one didn't have the response I had hoped for and I felt guilty for leaving Merlin out, so this one is a little strange but a filler. It will lead to more Merlin!WHUMP for next chapter :) **

Ceara walked over to her bed and laid her pale face down. She had never had any form of maid or helper. Vivienne and herself had lived in poverty, keeping as low a profile as possible. That coupled with the stories told from her grandmother's youth, left her no desire for a maid now. If she had have had a maidservant. Ceara would be looking for a friend in her. However she could never hope to be friends with someone forced into service to her.

Almost as soon as her head hit the fluffy depths of her pillow she was sound asleep. No dreams plagued her mind, no nightmares either. Just the bliss of the darkness and relief.

* * *

The rope around Merlin's wrists and ankles prevented the blood flow to his feet and hands. It was a cold night and the weather was biting. Combined with the lack of warm blood to his limbs Merlin felt cold. All over, and inside.

Where was his king? How could he be left here? These and many other questions like them haunted Merlin through every night. For him there was no shortage of nightmares. Well that was when he got to sleep. They lurked in the dark that lay behind the light. They crept through the shadows, blending in with the night. The darkness caused his eyes to strain and he was soon see things that were not there. Pale dots that floated through his vision, flicking as he moved his eyes. There was no way he could focus on them.

Outside of his walls, Merlin could hear the crunch of leaves under the feet of creatures unknown. He watched the cracks in the door filter light through them and cast beams of light onto his face. They illuminated the inside of the caravan in stripes. Then the beams became lower. The sun was setting. If he pulled himself forward and dragged his cold limbs like logs, then he could just about make out a faint glow of a fire. He felt none of its warmth though, it was a torture that one knows only when they are freezing.

The cold which had stopped him from sleeping for a time, was now beginning to lull his brain into a hibernation mode. The cold closed around him and he could barely feel his fingers. The only position he could maintain with out killing his arms and legs was an awkward position on his back. He had to try to keep the limbs from the ground where from their heat would be removed.

It was like this that Merlin felt his eyelids droop, and he succumbed to sleep

_Arthur was sat on a log with his head on his hand, stubble glowing golden in the sun. It was morning and the birds were chirping. Arthur had a neckerchief in his fingers and he was sliding it through them. He looked thoughtful and concerned. The knights were asleep so the prince was on watch then. Merlin could not see where he was. Normally these dreams were in third person. So where was he?_

_Then it struck him. This was recent, the horses that he had been feeding were there, all of the bags they had used THAT day. This was either the future or a flashback of his soul-brother's. Arthur __looked back at the sleeping knights, then he stood and walked to them._

_He reached out and patted Gwaine on the shoulder. The knight's reflexes kicked into action and he stood up comically, arms poised for a fight._

"_We need to start looking again now Gwaine. Help me get the others up and we will get going soon." Gwaine nodded and the alert posture slipped from him. The action in his eyes died as well. The long-haired__ knight walked with long footsteps around the knights prodding them with his toes, effectively waking them up._

_All of the knights gathered around the embers and lined up for cold leftovers. There was no mood in the camp. At all. Nobody could decide to be sad, depressed guilty or angry. At each stop there had been a different mood but now there was none left. They were shells now, they had felt it all now._

_Then there was laughter and a young boy entered the camp, closely followed by another. Merlin. His large ears were covered by dark locks that blocked his eyes partially. The knights looked up and __ saw the boys. Some of them saw it was Merlin and they watched in awe. Then there was the giggles of the little boys. They ran in front of their King, joking and playing. They began tugging at the royals sleeves and dragging him over. Arthur bent down to play as well, a smile on his face._

_There was a whistle through the air. Before anyone knew what was happening, an arrow embedded itself in young Will's back. He screamed loudly and collapsed into the arms of the King. Whispering soothing words of a father-figure Arthur pulled the arrow from his back and tried to stop the bleeding. As he did this a lean figure stepped out of the bushes. A crossbow in had._

_The figure wore a tan coat and boots that fit him snugly. And a purple neckerchief... _

_He raised the crossbow and took aim again. At the unwary king. _

_The trigger was pulled back slowly and the arrow met its mark with a solid thump. _

_Merlin turned to look at the knights, there was no remorse in his face. The young man didn't even look at his king, he just grinned. _

_His eyes glowed red like coal in a dying fire. _

_The red irises morphed into those of Ceara. _

_The knights fell to their knees in front of the girl and she laughed. _

_Laughed._

Laughter, it was laughter that awoke Merlin from his dream- nightmare. He blinked the dust from his eyes, trying to clear his blurred vision.

The guards of Ceara were back for him again.

* * *

**So what did you think?**

**Phoenix**


	11. Defiance

**OK guys here you go. A slight cliff hanger.. sort of... well I don't really know you decide I now have a few more ideas for a plot progression in the next few chapters, as the first plan was scrapped :) **

**Here you go... Enjoy**

* * *

They were back for him again. It had been one of the longest nights that Merlin could remember. The nightmare had left him trembling and fears of his failed destiny plagued his mind. Of course Arthur would probably never understand what he went through for him. But he cared.. Merlin felt even guiltier when he thought about how the separation of Emrys and The Once and Future King that made them both vulnerable. They relied on each other.

If there was one thing that he knew as the guards approached, it was that he would never betray his king. He was the defence that could bring everything down if he cracked. Merlin held the knowledge of defences even the King didn't know about.

He would remain strong. That became a chant in his head as the guards walked to him, daggers in hand. Glints in their eyes promising trouble.

* * *

As Arthur and the knights woke, blinking in the new sun, they heard a distinct rustling in the bushes behind their clearing. The noises were getting louder and clearer as they advanced. It took less than a minute before all of the knights were in battle stances, swords drawn, pointing to to the disturbance. It was definitely clearer now. They could hear voices. The drowsy knights formed a circle and increased the strength that they held in their stances. Each rustle sharpened their alertness.

A glisten on the trees was the first sign of their step into the clearing. It was a dancing faerie on the rugged oak's trunk. The sun was once again tracing itself along the blades of the men advancing towards the knights. The sharpened metal swords were cold, waiting for the blood to warm them up. They were the beasts that lay in wait of a command to strike, bite, they were hungry. Each man wielding them was also greedy for a fight. Waiting for the rush of adrenaline through their veins. They did not, however, know that the men they were about to attack were trained knights of Camelot.

Positions changed as the knights assumed an offensive position as opposed to the previous defensive. With a single fluid motion Arthur signalled for them to spread out over to the exits of the clearing. Elyan took the main entrance whilst Gwaine took the smaller one where the rustling was. Arthur's goal to catch the men off guard was successful.

They entered the clearing and there they saw the knights. It was unexpected for them to be this outnumbered and they were shocked to find men behind them. Acting on instinct the man nearest the small entrance swung his blade around and it made contact with Gwaine's legs. With a howl of pain he dropped to his bloody knees, swinging upwards as he went.

A solid crack resounded through the clearing as the tip of the knights blade collided with the rough man's chin. He stumbled backwards, and Gwaine bundled up into a ball clenching himself against the pain, only really succeeding in making it worse.

"Gwaine!" a shout echoed from the other side of the clearing, Arthur turned around as he felled his opponent. Leon was the one to have issued the shout, at the other man's cry. Gwaine looked up,

"Leon, behind you!" A blade swung around towards the knights head only to be parried and the fight's intensity to increase again. Arthur darted to Gwaine whilst Percival joined Leon in his onslaught.

With a final thud from one of the knights swords their opponent dropped to his knees and then fell to the ground, limp. It was over. All of the knights swarmed to Gwaine, who lapped up the attention gratefully. He smiled and joked at them lifting the mood.

"Gwaine, how is it?" Arthur gestured to the rough knights knees.

"Better than it was, but it still stings a bit..."

"Your such a girl Gwaine, you even have the flowing locks for it." Leon insulted the drunk teasingly, breathing hard.

"Well we can't all have a beard of immortality, and eternal youth." It had become a joke amongst the knights that Leon didn't ever seem to get injured, and if he did it was only ever minor, that he must be immortal.

"Good, well done, all of you, for your reactions to that...visit." Arthur turned back to face the clearing, ignoring the banter, and surveyed the area. The carnage of the men was scattered around the clear space in amongst the towering trees. He faced the knights once more. "We will leave soon. There may be more so keep you guard up and we should be ready."

Gwaine's eyes looked passed Arthur's shoulder towards the broken men. They narrowed and the widened suddenly, his pupils shrinking at the light.

"Arthur-" his yell rang through the clearing like a bell, but he was too slow. As the King swung around, the glint of a blade caught the suns rays, it tumbled through the air. Over and over again. With a solid _thump_ it embedded itself in the young King's shoulder. With a cry he fell to the ground.

Panting in short breathes the injured King reached up to the dagger and pulled. Immediately blood pooled at his fingertips, driving its way through them, and down his arm. The uninjured hand grasped the knife firmly and threw it at towards his attacker. The moan as it made contact was brief as it struck his bare neck.

Arthur fell backwards just as the knights began to register what had happened and began to move. The darkness claimed him within a heartbeat. And he was dead to the world.

* * *

The raven head lifted from its position on the thin man's chest. A wide grin was comfortably placed on his pale face. Multiple cuts oozed blood on his soaring cheekbones. Every breath he took seemed to rattle as it jerked his broke ribs, but the smile was still there. There was a light in his eyes that never seemed to fade, no matter what they did to him.

Defiance.

Nothing could make him spill the secrets that were kept under lock and key within his mind. The ever moving insolent mouth had stopped giving frustrating quips and no refused to make a sound.

Along the wall of the second tent he had been brought to, were a range of devices intent on delivering harm. Many were laced with complex spell work that caused incalculable amounts of pain. Others were just steel, and dreams from the imaginations of the worlds cruellest men. However none could make him talk.

"What are you grinning at boy?! Do you not know when to stop?!" large chunks of spittle flew past Merlin and some made it's home on his shirt. The thug leant forward and removed the gag, that they had placed there after they grew tired of his insults, from Merlin's mouth. A trickle of blood came from the corner of it as he did so, joining the rivets running down the side of his face. He flexed his jaw for a moment and then the smile just replaced itself.

"Oh, nothing. I just wanted rid of that gag. Also, do you really think I will spill the secrets of my kingdom to you filth?" That earned him a slap about the face and he spat out another glob of blood. Then the gag was replaced. The fire in those cerulean eyes didn't once flicker.

The thug turned his muscled back to him and sighed.

"Well then. If that is the way you want to play it then I am sure my lady will not worry about getting her hands dirty."

In that brief moment there was a flicker of something deeper, darker in his eyes. A shimmer of fear.

* * *

**There. Cliffie? **

**What do you think? Thank you to previous reviewers and good night :)**


	12. Druids

**Sorry this is a late chapter, I have had a lot of stuff on in the past few weeks. I had exams and then my German pen-friend stayed for a week, and we were out every night showing her the sights of England and the countryside :) **

**This is a re-post from this morning and is replacing the chapter, as I was in a massive rush to get the bus and didn't have time to give you a proper AN :)**

**Well here it is anyway :)**

* * *

Ceara's guards approached him. Their hands were clenched and veins were prominent on their foreheads. Merlin was sweating all over, for hours now he had been stuck in this tent. The torture instruments were hanging on hooks and ropes on the walls. They looked unstable but they didn't need to be stable. After all they were used frequently, so wouldn't need to hang for long.

Merlin wasn't the not the only one who was sweating. Karl the main 'torturer' was having no luck with Merlin. No matter how much blood was spilled onto the bench. He would say nothing. That was the depth of his unwavering loyalty.

Merlin had a strong will, even without his magic. Also the torture, although terrible, wasn't affecting Merlin in the way it would a normal being. His magic had been suppressed, yes, but it was not still. It was protecting him even now. It was like putting a lid on a boiling liquid. The liquid flows and bubbles underneath but can't escape, can't be poured or released.

No matter how hard Karl tried, none of the usual methods would shatter the wall of Emrys' magic. Occasionally he may make a crack or a dent in the shield but never completely destroy it.

"Well Merlin," Karl growled into his ear, "Are you angering me on purpose? Why won't you answer my questions eh? It would save you from more... Pain. " Karl pushed his fingers onto the partially healed wound in Merlin's shoulder. The muscles gave way beneath his fingers and Merlin's eyes bugged out. A small bubble of sound pushed its way up his throat. He didn't want to release the entire stream of his pain. He would not give him the satisfaction.

Karl pushed deeper. The tide of his pain was released and he was sure that he saw a candle burn brighter than was normal. It rose up and licked at the air for a few seconds and then shrank back to its normal height.

"How would you like to try something slightly different? I cant do this one, but I'm sure watching is just as fun." He grinned, "have you felt her presence before? Isn't she just... electrifying."

A shiver ran along the warlocks spine, manifesting itself as a shudder. There was no doubt in his mind who _she _was. Karl first walked to Merlin's head and gagged him and then strode over to the tent flap and summoned another guard. A few words passed between them and they both laughed.

Not five minutes later the tent flap danced open again. The small girls blonde girls danced behind her as she skipped across the small room. The perfect embroidery on the course dress glittered in the soft candlelight.

"Hello Merlin. It's so nice to meet you again. I understand that you have been a little tied up lately. I also hear that you have been causing some problems in giving me the information I require from you." she laughed. It was a shrill sound, like breaking glass. "Shame-" she skipped over to Merlin, touching his bare torso. "I liked that shirt-" Her icy fingers trailed across Merlin's cuts; he shivered. Merlin shot her a glare.

"Don't frown Merlin the wind might change and your face will be stuck."

Gradually moving herself to his head, Ceara stood above him. This was a moment Merlin would never forget. Her eyes glowed like red hot coals and his gag fell away.

"Now Merlin. I need some information and you will tell me; in one way or another. The information I want, you must understand this, has no importance to _me_. But my sister... she will find it most useful. I have never met her but her reputation proceeds her. And Grandmother spoke highly of her."

"What do _you _want Ceara? Not your sister but _you. _I will never give anything up that will betray r Arthur or Camelot."

"Maybe not willingly, no." Merlin shuddered again. "You will have no choice as to what you will say. In fact you may not even say it. I have gifts...and since you enjoyed their effects last time..."

Merlin flinched violently, the nightmare coming back to him in a flood. Ceara was the only one who could break his wall.

"Even you won't be able to fight me."

"I will fight you until my last breath. Or I will find a way to stop you!" he shouted feebly.

"Brave, brave words Merlin."

Her hand reached back to his wounds and all went black.

* * *

"Arthur! Arthur wake up!"

"Merlin?" Arthur said blearily. Leon's face loomed through his cloudy vision. "Uh." It was only then that Arthur realised he was lying on something soft.

Another face became focused and it was vaguely familiar to the King. Where did he know him from? Arthur's mind began to connect the dots. Mordred. Morgana. The druids. It was the druid who he had handed Mordred over to. The one they had visited for the Cup.

Arthur grunted and reached around to his waist, feeling for his sword. He winced. As he had twisted he had pulled the careful stitching of his wound. Hissing slightly in pain, Arthur lifted his shirt. A raw looking hole was buried in the muscles of his shoulder. Jagged edges of thread blew slightly in the breeze his breath was creating. The wound looked about a month old. However it was still deep. It was a hard wound that would take months to heal normally.

"what happened? Why are we here?" Looking around at the worried faces of the druids and the concerned frowns of the knights.

"Do you not remember anything sire?"

"I remember the hunt and then a bandit attack. Where's Merlin?" Arthur looked around expectantly, waiting to see his bumbling manservant pop out from behind a tree.

"Do you not remember anything before the bandit attack? About Merlin?"

"What about Merlin? Is he alright? Was he injured like me?" A crease of worry joined those of age on Iseldir's forehead. The druid leader stepped forward.

"No sire. We don't know where he is. I have some of my best trackers helping your knight, Gwaine? They are performing a spell which should lead us close to his location."

No magic. Wherever he is, we can find him. We will find him. I don't trust any magic not to burn me."

"It is what helped you, Sire. And your knight. Without it you would both be dead. Merlin may also die if you won't let us help you."

Arthur's mind was swimming. If he didn't use magic they might never find Merlin. Or at least not in time. If they did, then surely there would be a consequence. There always was when magic was involved. Magic was evil. Wasn't it? He had been healed. Was that an evil thing?

"What is the price?"

"What price, Sire?"

"To save Merlin. There is always an alternative motive with magic!"

"No sire, there isn't. Why don't you trust me? I have done nothing to harm you. And this child-" he pulled forward a small boy. He had blue eyes, filled with fear. It was a sight that should never have a place on a child's face. And it was directed at _him. _His wild hair flickered in the breeze and his eyes widened as he met Arthur's. He looked like a young Merlin. "This boy was given the gift of healing with his touch. Not an hour ago he healed your knight, Gwaine, without him, your friend would have been crippled. The damage down to his muscle and tissue alone, would have left every step agony. I won't even begin to describe the damage to his knee-bones."

Arthur looked at the boy with new eyes. He looked tired, and he had rings under his eyes. But there was pride there too. It was a little spark that jumped behind them, a flickering light.

"Thank you"

"See, King Arthur. Magic is not bad. Neither is it good. It is like fire. And that is how it feels. A rush of warmth. Fire can be used to warm and to wound. It can be used to create or destroy. Open your eyes, my King, and see it's beauty. Your father-" Arthur flinched as his father was mentioned.

"-was a great man, in many ways. He was a strong ruler and a sturdy King. However he was blinded. Fear and pain do that to a person. When you don't want something to be true you block it out, ignore it. You believe the opposite of what is true. Your father was a thrown into a world with no light. His flame had been extinguished. He turned to magic as a way to blame someone other than himself. The magical community took that blame and paid the price in the wrath of a heartbroken king."

Arthur slowly leant his head back. Questions came back to him again.

"king Arthur, don't let your father's mistakes ruin your reign. Magic cannot be destroyed. It is in the rain, the soil and the air. All of them combined make your world. The beauties you see.

"Next time you walk with your wife, or patrol with your men; keep your mind open and notice your world

"magic is not evil. If you treat it well it will do the same to you. One day, probably very soon, you will discover something that will shake your beliefs to their foundations. Remember what I have said." Iseldir sighed.

"We will help you fin Merlin, whether you want our help or not. We will be here, assisting you. Our King." With that he left King Arthur baffled speechless.

Suddenly the reality of where he was hit him. The events since the kidnapping pounded his skull. Merlin had to be alive. _He'd know if he wasn't. _No he wouldn't even think it. He tried to sit up. And the his shoulder made itself known again.

"Ah!" he doubled over, pulling the would further. The knights were at his side in a flash. So was the young Merlin-like boy.

"Sire..." he stammered. Then he pulled himself together and opted a look strangely akin to Gaius'. "Stay down sire. You already have pulled out the stitches. Lay back down for a moment."

Arthur pulled back as the pale hand reached for his wound, he saw, for a moment a girls face with glowing eyes, and the he came back to himself and saw the boy.

"Relax, Sire." He soothed, much like the calming tones used on a wild horse. The boy touched his side and closed his eyes. A faint glow of gold shone through his eyelids. Then he opened his eyes and the sun spilled from them. But Arthur was watching his side.

Slowly but surely, the sides of his wound pulled themselves together. Muscles re-knitted themselves back together and blood seeped from the wound as it replenished itself. The boy sat back, an exhausted look on his face. The only sign of the wound was the puckered edges of the fleshy wound, no longer the gaping hole. Even though the wound was not completely healed, Arthur was free of pain. The magic hummed in his blood, and it was warm.

Arthur Pendragon, slowly, was changing his view of magic.

* * *

**So what did you think? I am going to try and do the next chapter soon so it is a continuation for Merlin as this chapter was meant to end with a Merlin bit but I was running late :) **

**Please review, they cheer me up and make me post faster :)**

**Phoenix**


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